With all due respect to Spencer Tracy and Steve Martin, neither of these fine actors captured the essence of what it truly means to be the “Father of the Bride.” 

It has to be lived. 

My first, and only experience to date as father of the bride, occurred on August 7, 2009, with the wedding of my daughter, Sarah. In reality, the experience began with the engagement some eight months earlier. As a college professor, I consider myself a learned man, but I could never have predicted the education I was about to receive. I was about to be transformed both as a father, and as a human being.

Those eight months can best be described as ones of plans, schedules, endless details and budgetary concerns. I worried about whether I could afford any of this. Night sweats and sleepless nights were not uncommon. As a result, I questioned everything. Is this really necessary? Isn’t this a little over the top? Will I have to sell fruit on the freeway to pay for this?

And I felt obligated to visit places that don’t interest me in the least: cake shops, dress shops and photography studios. Acting interested when I’m not is always a challenge for me, but in no time my performances were worthy of Academy Award consideration.

Then came the week of the wedding and the transformation began.

On Monday of wedding week, I met Sarah at the church, where she was measuring the aisle runner. Great, I thought, another chance to display my considerably improved acting skills and look interested.  However, when I saw Sarah in the church that day she looked different to me. I can’t describe it other than to say she was no longer the little girl I took for walks in a stroller, or taught to ride a two-wheel bicycle. This beautiful woman, who I saw take her first steps, was about to take the most important step of her life. She was vibrant, energized and animated. The tone and volume of her voice fluctuated with anticipation as she told me every detail of the events that were about to unfold that week. She spoke at the rate of an auctioneer and, most amazingly, I kept up with her.

She was happy. In fact, she was happier than I had ever seen her.

I experienced an epiphany and at jet speed the previous eight months melted away. Like the Grinch who suddenly discovered the true meaning of Christmas, I now realized what this was about. This was not about guest lists, wedding showers or bridesmaid dresses. It was not about rehearsal dinners, hotel rooms and chocolate fountains. This was about giving my daughter the best gift I could ever give her. This was about giving my little girl – the joy of my life – a joy of her own. This was her day. 

Suddenly, I changed. From that moment on, instead of avoiding places I used to dread, I found myself asking if could tag along. I accompanied her to a craft store—and enjoyed it. When she told me her plans for her hair and fingernails, I hung on every word as if she was revealing the secrets of the universe. As for costs and expenses, I became a veritable font of giving. I began throwing out money that I didn’t even have. I wanted her to have everything she wanted. I must’ve looked like I’d just hit the lottery. I was practically throwing coins to the peasants. My generosity knew no bounds, and would have made Mother Teresa look selfish. I barely recognized myself. From that moment on, my focus shifted from myself to her. 

I would describe the actual wedding day as a surreal, out-of-body experience. It’s a foggy dream sequence where everyone seems to be moving in slow motion even though the day itself passed quickly. And throughout the day, my focus remained on Sarah. I experienced a sort of tunnel vision while walking her down the aisle, not even noticing friends and family in attendance. It was just the two of us, as it was with my toast at the reception and our first dance. It’s as if no one else was there. I was completely consumed with Sarah and her happiness. Nothing else mattered except making sure she had the best day of her life. 

I had plenty of tearful moments, but not because my daughter was grown up and didn’t need me anymore. It was because I realized how fortunate and truly blessed I am. I am fortunate that I was able to provide this day for her, fortunate to be alive to be a part of it, and blessed to be her father.

Of course, we should count our blessings daily, and in some ways it’s a shame that it takes an event of this magnitude to remind us how fortunate we truly are. Make no mistake, being the father of the bride is quite emotional. Undoubtedly, you will emerge from the entire experience exhausted and broke. You will also enjoy a sense of peace, pride, fulfillment and appreciation for the abundant blessings in your life. The wedding was an education for this father of the bride, and a costly one, but it was worth every penny. – BEB